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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23765473">Pear Shaped</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsisKitsune/pseuds/IsisKitsune'>IsisKitsune</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Devil's in the details [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Daredevil (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abduction, BAMF Matt Murdock, Coma, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hospitals, Human Disaster Matt Murdock, Hurt Matt Murdock, I am not okay with this - Freeform, Manipulative Nick Fury, Matt Murdock Needs a Hug, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Panic, Peter Parker is Matt Murdock's Biological Child, Police, helpful people, matt goes night night for a bit after Fury FUCKS UP ROYALLY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:08:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,998</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23765473</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsisKitsune/pseuds/IsisKitsune</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Insulin pens... Fucking insulin pens... Matt was groggy when he was grabbed, the guy had been heavier set, smelling... sweeter, like a diabetic running too high, shuffling a little off when he'd grabbed the fucking pen, and jammed Matt in the arm with it. Was it insulin, or something else? Whatever it was had him disoriented quickly, he couldn't, keep his focus, like the world was fading around the edges. While he was ushered into the back of a vehicle. “Mr. Murdock.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Devil's in the details [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1704817</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>276</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Pear Shaped</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Insulin pens... Fucking insulin pens... Matt was groggy when he was grabbed, the guy had been heavier set, smelling... sweeter, like a diabetic running too high, shuffling a little off when he'd grabbed the fucking pen, and jammed Matt in the arm with it. Was it insulin, or something else? Whatever it was had him disoriented quickly, he couldn't, keep his focus, like the world was fading around the edges. While he was ushered into the back of a vehicle. “Mr. Murdock.”</p><p>“What, what'd you-”</p><p>“It's alright, Mr. Murdock, a simple shot and you'll be alright.”</p><p>He couldn't think, everything just kept fading, it was insulin... “You just, insulin... You're going to, kill me if you don't do it soon.”</p><p>“Bring him up to about 60.” He jerked away, his limbs feeling, useless as something jabbed his hip, “Keep it up Mr. Murdock and you will go into a coma...”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“You and your partner have worked with the one called Daredevil several times through the years.”</p><p>Matt forced himself still when he felt the bite of a needle, trying to catch his breath, get his brain to stop misfiring and bring the world back into focus, “You don't send someone to drug random people he's helped or that have helped him.”</p><p>“Especially not a diabetic less than 3 minutes from passing out. I finally found you, the Devil of Hell's kitchen.” Matt shuffled, trying to get his barings, “Take it easy, Mr. Murdock, you exert yourself much and you'll drop back to coma levels.”</p><p>“I don't keep the adrenaline up I'm going to pass out anyway...” He could already feel unconsciousness digging its claws into his head, he kept missing points, a steady voice becoming annoyed and then worried.</p><p>“Bring him up, all the way.”</p><p>Matt didn't even flinch at the shot, just fell to the side when they backed off him. “Sir, this- is going south quick.” His eyes barely fluttered open when his arm was lifted. “His pulse is thready. It's dropping.”</p><p>“Shit,” Matt finally did pass out when another sharp stab happened against his arm. “Someone get me Parker on the phone, NOW!”</p><p>-</p><p>Matt kept flinching, scratchy, pinching, stabbing pains, randomly causing him to flinch away from it. At one point his eyes fluttered at the hard slap across the face, he couldn't even feel the bloom of heat from damaged cells across his skin before he was already fading out again. “Did you honestly just,” something was holding him down, too tired, making him squirm before he finally relaxed in unconsciousness.</p><p>Scratchy, scratchy, itchy, Matt's fingers kept twitching, wrist shaking, something pinching his fingers, making him imagine some large beetle clamped down onto it before he finally shook it off. Scratchy, still, making him squirm, before he finally started waking up. “He does that one more time I'm taping it down...”</p><p>“I told you, just shut off the alarms, he's fine.”</p><p>“Yeah, and if he's not it's my ass!”</p><p>“Come on, fuck this guy, let's go get lunch.”</p><p>“I've gotta wait for-”</p><p>“Dude's working on a freaking diabetic coma... we'd be lucky if he wakes up. Boss really screwed the pooch on this one. Tried to warn him not to fuck around with insulin, don't listen to the medics, they just know what they're talking about.”</p><p>Scratching around his wrist finally made him shift it, “Goddamn-”</p><p>“Look, just,” the room fell blessedly silent at a click. “There, all better.”</p><p>“Yeah, fuck, just, for a bit. He'll be fine while I grab coffee.”</p><p>“That's better,” he squirmed, trying to flick his wrist away from the scratching again. “Whatever this guy can do, must be a hell of a lot to be this physically responsive in a coma...”</p><p>“Okay, let's just go grab that drink while he's alright, I don't want the alarms off for too long.”</p><p>“Here,” he flinched, reflexably shifting his fingers away from the sticky/sharp scraping, “Goddamnit holds still,” the sticky/scratching kept his fingers twitching as it stayed, “There, all better. Let's go.”</p><p>“His eyes are open again...”</p><p>“Welcome to the fun world of comas. It happens, they can blink, and open and close, the eyes can even move and track. It's like one long dream. Well, maybe not dream. Actually, I wonder if he's locked in...”</p><p>“Locked in?”</p><p>“Something happens, and, it's like a complete disconnect between the mind and the body. No control. But locked in is hard to verify, we definitely can't know that in just a few hours. It could take weeks to verify it from the charts. Least he's breathing on his own.”</p><p>“I heard them mention a kid...”</p><p>“Not my post, or my problem, but if you do see a kid, keep it outa here.”</p><p>He finally felt like his limbs would respond. He'd never had that happen before. Reflex twitching and movement happening without his control but not able to clench his fist. He took a deep breath and blinked a few times as the steps drew distance.</p><p>“<em>Ya ever heard of 'Sleep paralysis'? MJ told me about it. It's this really freaky thing where like, your brain wakes up before your body does. I mean, welcome to my nightmare, right? Just thinking of that would give you nightmares.”</em></p><p>Maybe, maybe that's what happened. He'd had some rough days, but he'd never had that before. Even with his brain always 'waking up' first, it'd never been like that. Matt shifted, a lot more meaningful and less reactive squirming, his wrists were bound. Thick, leather, not cuffs. Easy. His chest wasn't bound. Even easier. He shifted, listening, he needed... Clothes, there was a closest down the hall in what looks to be a nurse's station. Desk, chairs, phone. He hissed at the thought of the scratchy materials but it was clothes. Doors... keys/codes... an observation desk was close by, a card sitting in the drawer. Was it the right one? How long did he have before backup if the machine constantly pacing next to his ear went off. The guy shut off the alarm. Where was it on the machine? He tried to play it back in his head, but the world was still... muddied, like it rippled with each new sound. Fuck it, the steps had already made it down the hall and into the elevator, being lowered farther down.</p><p>Matt shot upright, growling and wincing as bit down on the leather and pulled, getting it loose before freeing his other hand and grabbing the other at his ankles, tearing the line out while ripping the tape and reader from his fingers before hitting a button that, thankfully, shut off the machine. He was already stomping to the desk and opening the drawer, grabbing the card and running his hand over it, finding a magnetic strip and grinning. He did have a chance.</p><p>“<em>This guy is working on a diabetic coma.”</em></p><p>He stopped before reaching into the bottom draw, grabbing what smelled and felt like Skittles before tearing open the package and downing some before trying the swipe card at the door. It opened. He really did have a chance.</p><p>Matt was grimacing as he munched down more of the sickening candy as he rushed to the desk to drop down behind it, curling up under the cap when someone walked by. He was up and grabbing clothes the instant they turned the corner before bolting around the next one to pull them on before tilting his head back toward the desk and making a call, reaching over it to grab a set of sunglasses in the draw and shoving them over his useless eyes.</p><p>Stairs... Elevator...</p><p>The elevator opening when he headed past decided for him, “Hey, long night?”</p><p>Matt blinked and twitched his head toward the voice, “Yeah.”</p><p>“You get floated up here too?”</p><p>“Yeah, I was going to but apparently someone messed up the schedule, I'm supposed to be on lunch.”</p><p>“Ah, well, going down?”</p><p>Matt sighed, “Yeah,” he smiled and nodded to the guy holding the elevator for him.</p><p>“Musta been a hell of a night.”</p><p>“2 dollar shots, get me every time.”</p><p>That got a laugh as the guy headed off while Matt ran a hand down the button and frowned before finding the marked one. Fuck it, it'll work, he smacked it and stepped to the side to reach up, hoping it wasn't a model old enough to not tell what floor he's on, by either the updating displays at the top of the button grid or verbally. He was unlucky on both accounts. He growled as he stepped back toward the corner, flinching when the elevator stopped and a few people got on. He risked his luck, “Can someone tell me when we're at the lobby? I messed up, lost my contacts,” Matt lifted his glasses a bit, “Can't see shit without them, and these are too dark to read very well.”</p><p>“Sure, man, we'll let you know.”</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>“Hope you're not driving.”</p><p>“Nah, my, son's bringing me new ones, I'm just posted on a restricted floor so he has to meet me in the lobby.”</p><p>“We're on lobby floor. I hope you didn't lose them during surgery...”</p><p>“No, just, stupid move when I was washing up. Down the drain.”</p><p>That got a snort, “Alright, take care.”</p><p>Matt smiled and waved as the group headed off while he walked out the front door. He took a relieved breath before realizing he had no fucking idea where they'd drug him to. He headed toward the corner of the building and rubbed his eyes, “What's the chances of finding a payphone?”</p><p>He sunk down against the building, blinking when he heard a tell tale chirp and static and chatter. Fuck it, if these assholes were after Matt Murdock, he might as well make it more difficult, “Officer,” he raised his voice, raising his arm toward the figure now walking toward him, “I need help.”</p><p>“What's wrong, sir? You're right next to a hospital.”</p><p>“My name's Matthew Murdock, I was abducted from Hell's Kitchen, New York. I don't know where I am.”</p><p>“Shit, hold on, let me call this in.”</p><p>“I was walking and felt someone stab me with something like a needle, and then I was thrown into, some van.” Matt felt a hand on his shoulder, lifting to help him to his feet, “I woke up here, they said something about insulin in the car, and diabetic coma here.”</p><p>“Easy sir, we'll get you back home.” Matt stumbled, “Easy, this way.”</p><p>“I'm blind, officer.”</p><p>“How'd you get out of the hospital?”</p><p>Matt shrugged, “Pure fucking dumb luck and determination.”</p><p>“We need you evaluated...”</p><p>“Not here, not any fucking where near here.”</p><p>“Alright, yeah, alright. Let's get you into the car.” Matt was actually relieved when the Officer settled him into the passenger seat. “Dispatch you're never going to believe this.”</p><p>“Where am I?”</p><p>“You're in New Jersey, Mr. Murdock.”</p><p>Matt sighed as he pulled off the sunglasses and tossed them onto the floorboard. “How long was I out for?”</p><p>“We don't have a missing persons filed on you,” Matt sighed, that meant less than a day at least. “But, apparently the Kitchen's dispatch has been fielding calls all night about you. Guess it's a good thing they did.”</p><p>Matt smirked, “That's my boy.”</p><p>“Let's get you home, Mr. Murdock.”</p><p>Matt's fist just kept clenching tighter on the drive home. His brain seemed to start coming back online completely. Making fear creep up his spine. Was this just, a gargantuan fucking mistake... Or was this a verification... “Shit.”</p><p>“Everything alright?”</p><p>“Sorry, I was just, trying to figure out, who could have done this. With the trial and everything being so public...”</p><p>“Don't worry, Mr. Murdock, we'll figure this out.”</p><p>“I you will, what good is a blind witness.”</p><p>“Just because you didn't see it doesn't mean the eyes in the sky can't see it. It's a hospital, Mr. Murdock. Someone had to have witnessed something.”</p><p>“Yeah, something.”</p>
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